


they're watching you from above

by orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Rimming, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's two men—one’s skinny, all long limbs and tanned skin dressed in all black, a bit sweaty and in need of a shower. but nothing like the other guy, whose shirt and basketball shorts stuck to his back and thighs, skin glistening with sweat as he pushed both his pink hair off his forehead and the other man's chest to the wall, pressing up behind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they're watching you from above

pausing the recording, he looks around the room, and after a few moments of silently staring at the door, he unbuckles his belt and presses play. brad cooper can’t quite comprehend how he got here, even as he palms his clothed cock while staring at the monitor screen.

he has been working in the hamilton hotel as a guard for the last seven months, and in all that time, he’s only been five times inside the control room. except, well, he didn’t have a hand down his pants those times before.

hamilton is a four star hotel, which “promises to provide a sense of security to everyone staying, while giving their guests the impression of complete privacy.” translation: there are hidden cameras in hallways, a tiny control room with old monitors for them, and a brad cooper by the doors every night, from nine to six. there usually isn’t anyone in the control room, because spying on guests isn't the point (although brad had for sure been tempted to), but there had been two noise complaints from room 306 and 309, both talking about a hassle on the hallways, and just to keep the guests happy, the receptionist assured it'd be looked into and the person would be warned. and that's how brad ended up leaving his usual spot to check out the recordings. and the supposed hassle in the hallway turned out to be much more than that.

after taking a seat on the worn down spinny chair in the room, he looked for the recordings of the hallways from the guests who complained. he rewinded the tape a few times, seeing nothing more than an empty hallway, until he noticed a blur by the corner. as soon as he pressed play, two people burst through the elevator door, kissing more enthusiastically than he'd ever seen anyone do (and brad watches a _lot_ of porn, good quality porn, but the kissing during foreplay in his hidden dvds is nothing like this). it's two men—one’s skinny, all long limbs and tanned skin dressed in all black, a bit sweaty and in need of a shower. but nothing like the other guy, whose shirt and basketball shorts stuck to his back and thighs, skin glistening with sweat as he pushed both his pink hair off his forehead and the other man's chest to the wall, pressing up behind him. and that’s where brad is at the moment, the image on the monitor getting the best of him as he resumed the video with an unbuckled belt.

he’s not gay--he’s sucked dick but, okay, he doesn’t have a but, _but_ he’s not gay. there’s just something  about the way the pink haired man's grinding on this other guy without a care in the world in a public space, pushing his hips forward in a rhythm that has the other’s hips thumping against the wall, probably leaving bruises. and he should be pausing the recording and going down there to demand more secrecy next time, but instead he sticks a hand down his boxers, fingers tightening around the base of his cock when the guy against the wall is turned around and two fingers are put in front of his face, a silent order to suck on them. and he does, making it more dramatic than he probably should really, with bobbing his head and all, but then pink hair is pulling his fingers off and pushing him towards the door, probably telling him to get it open. brad's grip on his dick loosens, saddened that it’s just gonna end there and leave him edged and with newfound gayness, but then saliva-slicked fingers are slipping down the back of the skinny one's jeans, and the guy _melts,_  and that’s when brad realizes he’s witnessing a twenty-something man being fingered in the middle of the hotel he works in. it’s not like that stops his wrist’s flicks from speeding up, anyway.

pink hair lowers his boyfriend's jeans, letting brad see half of his ass, and hey, he’s gotta admit it’s a nice ass, heterosexuality intended. it seems like a miracle that tanned guy is able to find the key card in his pocket, holding on for dear life to the doorframe with one hand as he tries to get it open with the other. it looks like he gives up for a minute, head thumping against the wood as he can see pink slip in another finger, whispering praise into his ear that brad'd love to hear if only he had audio, but then the door's unlocked and the subby one almost slips, if not for pink’s iron grip on his waist, holding him up. and okay, surely this is it, they'll go into the room and brad will have to walk out of here with a hard-on and a made up explanation about what took him so long. there's none of that, because pink fall to his knees and lowers the other guy's jeans even more, leaving it mid-thigh, and is he—yes, he's sticking his tongue into his ass. the key card falls from skinny’s open palm as he grips the frame with both hands now, knees buckling and mouth hanging open, and brad's hand movements stutter for a second. is tongue fucking like, a gay thing? a _hygienic_ gay thing? whatever it is, pink’s head buried between subby’s ass cheeks as his black-painted nails scratch his skin is, by far, one of the best sights he's ever seen. it's not long before he pulls away, licking a stripe from his hole up to his spine and giving him a light spank before pushing him towards the open door. he stumbles and falls into the carpeted floor on his hands and knees, not making any effort to get up (brad swears he even sticks his ass up in the air further) as pink walks inside and shuts the door.

and it's only a bit sad how brad isn't even close to finishing, his jeans down to his knees and his freckled dick on his left hand. it's even sadder when he hears a knock on the door and processes exactly what he just wanked to.

“you done there yet?” it's molly, the receptionist, asking through the door, oblivious to his exposed, voyeurism-loving dick.

“oh, uhm, not yet! let me just rewind it. i’ll be five! maybe ten.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you were looking for good smut i am Sorry


End file.
